La Vie en Rose
by Chaotic4Life
Summary: LoVe AU Set 8 years after S1. Logan spends his days living the high society life in France. Unaware of his haunting past.
1. Chapter 1

Title: La Vie en Rose (WIP)  
Rating: R (language/sexual innuendo/drug use)  
Disclaimer: Rob is the Man - I just take them out to play, but I promise to bring them back. Latest Wednesdays aroung 8:45 in time for hair and make up.

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**Thanks a million to Dina at LJ - without you this story wouldn't be the same - you made this adventure possible and most of all readable.**

* * *

Duncan looked up irate, his eyes trying to focus around the room. He couldn't remember why he was suddenly awake, even though the non-existent light was an indication that the morning was hours away. His alarm confirmed his suspicions. 2:35 a.m. 

"Great!" he mumbled, falling back on his pillow.

"Who needs sleep anyways."

Still bleary-eyed and puzzled, he drifted back to sleep. His cell, lying carelessly underneath a pile of musty and damp clothes on the floor, was blinking, indicating a missed call.

* * *

"Man, what's going on? There's no beer in the fridge!" 

"Alert the media! Logan Echolls ran out of Booze before noon! What's up, the help didn't deliver?"

Miguel was balancing 2 cups of coffee as he hurriedly walked across the deck of the 270 foot yacht, carefully not to disturb any of the sleeping beauties soaking up the San Tropez morning sun. Casa de Echolls, party location extraordinaire, was once again back in business. Not that it ever really closed.

"Salut, what's going on!"

Miguel reached Logan, handing him the steaming hot liquid.

"You're up early. Everything ok?"

Logan was leaning on the rail by himself, sporting bed hair and only wearing a pair of cargo shorts, staring across the water. A smile sigh escaping his lips, he straightened his shoulders and smoothed back a lock of hair. His sunglasses hid his tired eyes as he watched the beach and the boardwalk slowly returning to life. It was easy to spot the locals, slowly opening their shops and cafes, taking their sweet time while the tourists were beginning to fill up the white sand beach. Why anyone would go on vacation in San Tropez to actually hang around the beach was beyond him. The beach was overcrowded, the shops overpriced and the food French. To enjoy the perks of this city you had to be either too rich for your own good, seriously beautiful, or famous. Logan was lucky for once in his life. He was all of the above.

"Morning to you too," he greeted his friend, thankfully taking the coffee, his right eyebrow raised and giving him a dirty smirk.

"Didn't expect to see you today. She seriously had her claws hooked on you yesterday."

He was referring to some random brunette they ran into last night, who had made up her mind that Miguel would not be taking home somebody else. She practically did everything but rape him on the dance floor. Not that Miguel seemed to mind. Hell, the chase was fun, but sometimes take out will do just fine.

"Do I look like I am running a fucking B&B? The sooner I am done the sooner she can leave. Let's just say...she left rather quickly." He grinned.

"So, how did you end that beautiful night, dawg?" Putting his arm around his buddy's shoulders, Miguel steered Logan towards the cabin.

"Miguel! Ghetto Slang with a French accent is just W R O N G! " Logan groaned.

"What cute little tiny blond made it into the chamber of secrets this week? I heard about Becky and Monique's catfight yesterday. They were both dying for the Queen of the week title." He laughed.

"You should make it surprise for tout le monde and for once pick a brunette"

Logan slipped the cell phone he'd been holding into his pocket. A split-second of sadness ran through Logan's eyes, but as always, what's a split-second in comparison to a lifetime?

"What can I say. Blondes, duhh, they, eh, just have more, ehhh, fun!" Giving the best Barbie doll ditz expression he could come up with before his first coffee, he grinned back at Miguel, tilting his head back and laughing.

Just as they were heading down towards the living room a petite blonde came out of the bedroom. The red thong bikini she was wearing would have made even James Bond blush.

"Bonjour Logan," she breathed as she kissed him passionately, wrapping herself around his abdomen. It took him a lot of restraint on his part, not to take her straight back to where she came from. What's a man got to do? He cradled her in his arms, holding her ass tightly.

"Good morning gorgeous," he whispered, his breath tickling her ears and cheek. "You better stop, or Miguel will have to witness a very XXX rated On Demand special," Logan spoke, smirking, and gently freed himself from her embrace.

"Monique, felicitation, ma cherie." Miguel kissed her on either cheek.

"Off you go, get some sun and enjoy the day! I need to borrow your boy toy for a little bit." He pointed towards the flock of women occupying the boat at all hours of the day, each more exotic and more beautiful than the next. Most of them could easily be successful models. Hell, some of them already were.

Monique pouted, but made her way upstairs, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the fridge on her way up. Music started to sound, as someone turned on the stereo with the newest Euro dance hymn. Joining the party upstairs, bathing in the envious looks some of the girls were sending her direction, she spread herself on the deck to catch the midday rays.

The guys sat down on the cream colored leather couch. The living room bared witness to last night's festivities. Empty bottles of Dom Perignon and Pernod, lip stick laced glasses, full ashtrays and napkins lay strewn everywhere. Logan picked up a black lace thong and tossed it in the trash before sliding into his favorite corner spot. He pulled his knees up on the couch and ran his hands through his hair and over his face, rubbing his eyes. There was rarely a night without a true Logan Kick-off party to get the night in gear. Last night being no exception. He sighed.

"Nathalie will once again kick my ass overboard. She threatened twice to leave me last month. Like, I need to find a new cleaning chick. Especially when summer starts."

"Well, didn't your father teach you never to fuck the help! You knew that she'd be trouble. You should have just kept your pants zipped for once. Not that I blame you. She's not all bad."

"Right!" Logan growled. "The only reason Aaron never fucked our cleaning lady was that she was about 40 years past his age tolerance. Once you turn 18 you are too old for my daddy dearest." Hatred appeared his hazel eyes as he remembered Aaron Echolls, Academy award winning slime bag and father from hell.

"Not to mention that Weevil would have had Aaron's head on a platter. And mine probably right with it, just for kicks" he thought to himself. Somehow he couldn't help but laugh out loud at the visual.

"Yo, Earth to Logan. You with me?" Miguel watched his friend closely for the first time today, realizing that he was not paying attention to a word he was saying.

"Should I be worried? Women, booze, X, ...? Champagne, Friends, Party...!" He was trying to reintroduce Logan to his train of thought, to no avail.

"OK! Spill! When I left you a couple of hours ago, you where high on life, chemicals, and sex. The crash cannot be that quick under any circumstances."

"Talking about chemicals, did you get a hold of JP? I'm not just out of beer." Logan asked, quickly returning to his usual boyish smile, his eyes sparkling once again.

"You're all set. He'll come around here at about 5. Let's go up and grab a drink! And here, take that, your mood gives me a headache." He handed Logan a little yellow pill. Popping the X with the rest of some stale champagne off the table, he followed his friend upstairs.

His mind slowly fogging up, his memories began to fade, causing him to forget once again why he wanted to talk to Duncan. His best friend in the world. His best friend, who he hadn't bothered to contact in 5 years.

Isn't life grand?


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter wasn't beta'd - so blame it on me! Sorry!  
**

* * *

„Ahh.." Logan groans, slowly trying to move his body from the bed. The nightlong partying slowly catching up with his head.

Just like the past weeks, his live had been a spinning variation of club openings, beach parties and social gatherings turned ugly. 'Fun, fun, fun.. I am getting too old for this' he mused, grabbing the bottle of aspirinrolling on the ground.

Throwing back two of them, he tried to adjust his burning eyes and focus on his whereabouts. The interior design revealed that instead of being in his own yacht turned home, he woke up in a luxury hotel suite. His clothes strewn carelessly across the room, leading a distinguished path towards the bed he was now sitting on. He scratched his head and carefully took a closer look at the sleeping form next to him.

The small blonde girl was spread out leisurely on the bed, the crumbled hair and soft smile on her lips appeared to be an indication that he wasn't too drunk to just have stumbled to bed last night, or rather this morning. 'Not bad Logan' he thought grinning admiring. 'At least you don't loose your touch when things get rough.' Ironic really, considering that he didn't remember any of it.

He felt somewhat weary. These situations had slowly turned into regular occasions. What used to be nights of good fun involving drinking, recreational drug use and gorgeous women, somehow had gone over the edge.

_" When did you get like this? It's like you've been going over to the dark side, bit by bit, so slowly that I didn't notice when you morphed into a full fledged jackass.!" - "So what, are we breaking up now? Huh? You want your best friend charm back?"_

He remembered that argument with his best friend in High school like it was yesterday. He still felt the pang of guilt, remembering Duncan.

Over the course of the last weeks he had picked up the phone and dialed his number, only to never leave a message or just hang up.

Pain darkening his hazel eyes. He rather not scrutinize the sudden urge to contact his former best friend.

Knowingly he avoids analyzing his feelings. It would open up a whole different can of worms. Things he wasn't ready to face or ever wanted to be a part of.

Years of therapy taught him well: Denial is the way to go.

Quickly he discards the unpleasant memories and tries to mentally piece together the last 24 hours instead.

Getting up carefully, not to wake his generous host, he heads for the shower. The hot stream slowly lifting the fog on his mind.

As the pouring water washes over him, Logan leans his forehead against the cool tiles and closes his tired eyes - silently praying that the pictures shooting past his inner eye, were scenes from one of his movies.

* * *

The afternoon had started normal enough. Miguel and him, enjoying a late lunch at the hip oceanfront "Le grand bleu", were discussing their summer plans.  
May had come, flooding the city with the yearly load of the rich, famous and wannabe's. Crowding their territory. 

"How about that trip to Barbados, this year? We planned to do that for a while now. The house will be empty and we could just fly out there for a few weeks. Mingle with the locals and keep a low profile!" Miguel suggested. "Remember Valerie?"

Logan looked at him questioning? Valerie? Low Profile? Neither things he was necessarily familiar with.

"About this tall!" holding his arm up " Blonde, not that that really narrows it down for you" he chuckled.

"Long hair, blue eyes. British accent. Worked in PR for Emmanuel on that "Rave" opening back around Christmas."

Still Logan could only come up with a blank stare. "Valerie? – Mhhh – doesn't really ring a bell. Sounds good though" he smirked.

"No wonder you can't keep up. They all look the same, not just to you, Man. I am not sure where your infatuation for tiny petite blondes started and I am pretty sure I don't want to know! You need help! " He mocked his buddy.

A sudden wave of nausea hit Logan and his sunglass covered eyes darkened. Memories of his youth rushing to his mind.

Lilly, the whirlwind of pep, the party girl extraordinaire, the girl he loved more then live. ,His girl, the girl he saw lying dead by her parents pool through the power of the internet; and then her best friend, Veronica, his friend turned enemy, with wit, grace and determination, the girl that didn't let him get away with anything in public and yet was still so sweet and innocent when nobody was looking, the girl that didn't give up to find Lilly's murderer, who stood loyal to her father, who took all the crap she could, only to get to the bottom, to get to the truth. The girl he fell for just to be hit in the face over and over.

The girl that found what she was looking for. The truth that almost killed her.

Veronica, bruised and battered in front of the Neptune sheriff's department.  
Tear streaks running down her face, burns on her cheek and hands, and eyes so full of fear and sadness that it made the nation cry.

The picture that made the cover of People magazine.

The picture of a girl that single-handedly destroyed all that was left of Logan Echolls.

Logan felt sick. He felt disoriented. A sudden headache rushing in.

He drowned the rest of his Pernod, trying to wash away the pain, and waved at the garcon to bring them another round.

Staring at Miguel he realized that his mouth was moving " That's my boy. You ok? You don't look too fresh!"

"I am okay" trying to focus on Miguel. " Listen, that trip sounds great. Round up a few people though. I don't need to go to a honeymoon location with you slacker. You're definitely not my type."

"Mmh – nothing a good dye job can't fix, baby!" batting his non existent girly eyes at him, both laughing out loud.  
Logan already read the tabloid headline "Logan & Miguel – Love undercover"

His publicist would never let him live that one down.

The lunch continued uneventful. Here and there some friends stopped by the table to catch up and chat.

By 5 o'clock they were still sitting in the shade, by now with at least 20 people, most of them beautiful women, turning the small bistro into the apparent hot spot.

Champagne started flowing freely and the atmosphere was perfection.

The sun preparing to slowly start its decent, waves seemingly careful rolling unto the well groomed beach.

The tourists long gone to their respective hotel rooms, the promenade empty before the impending dinner rush.

Logan leaned back relaxed, letting the conversations wash over him.

This is why he lived here. Away from the noise and speed of New York and LA. More or less hiding from the past still hovering over the Echolls name back in the US.

Although the News 7 years ago made it around the world, Europe was too busy worrying about their own scandals than to seriously hold a grudge about something that happened a long time ago to some American cretin. Most people didn't even remember. For them he was Logan. Movie star. Period. Unfortunately Paparazzi were allowed to freelance and travel, so his publicist had his hands full to keep his decadence out of the tabloids in the US.

After all he was a celebrity. A-list no less. Not really remembering when the fuck he ever signed up to be on anybodies list.

He let his mind wander.

Logan had left Neptune as quickly as he could. The decision made easier by the press that set up tent around town.

The days following the unraveling of Lilly's murder turned into a spinning media frenzy. Ruthlessly forgetting that the people mainly involved were physically and mentally strained minors.

Logan did what he did best. He locked himself in his house and hid behind tequila. His regular outbreaks and fits were welcomed more than anything. It fed their urge to expose him as a non caring asshole. Portraying him as his parents son, aggressive, abusive and drunk.

His bitterness and hate quickly found a target.

Hell, it was easy. She always had been the target. And now even the radio and TV agreed with him.

Veronica Mars, on her own, solved a murder that supposedly had been solved two years ago. Damn her, the guy was in jail. But no. She had to go back. She had to find out about it all.

She turned his family into a joke. She turned him into a laughingstock.

She made him the casualty along the way. She played him like no one before.

Veronica beat him at his own game. And he hated her for it.

She stained any happy memory he had in his life. Lilly was a cheater, Veronica a bitch, his Dad a monster, and his mother a coward. And he? What was left for him?

She pulled the rug underneath him, leaving him with the shattered pieces of what used to resemble a life, even if it wasn't a perfect one.

One night, on a notion he packed his bags and moved into their apartment in New York. Not leaving a note for anybody. He figured it wouldn't take a scientist to find him, but he didn't care.

Logan just left. Blending in the crowd of the big city. Trying to breath. Trying to break free in a city without room. Caged in between skyscrapers, busy streets and a buzzing nightlife he finally found what he was looking for. Anonymity.

Keeping to himself he just hang around. No purpose, no goal, no nothing. Hatred turning to emptiness. Emptiness giving away to numbness.

He returned for four days during the trial to testify. Feeling nothing as he had to confess to the whole world that even the life of movie stars wasn't necessarily all cotton candy.  
He felt like he was telling a story about a guy he once knew. Completely emotionally detached.

His friends were shocked. The shell of their former friend still showed physical attributes of what Logan used to be, although even that was a far stretch.

His eyes were dead, the usual mischievously sparkle was gone and made room for haunted dark orbs. He had lost too much weight, his lean body looking sick and tired. His whole body language haunted. Non of the lively, fidgeting Logan was left.

The young man on the witness stand was a stranger.

Veronica's heart broke all over again when she watched Logan. She had tried to contact him repeatedly, but he decided to ignore her. She couldn't really blame him. She knew she hurt him, but she wanted nothing but to repair the fragile bond. All her efforts were in vain.

Soon her lawyers suggested to stay away. His testimony would be too important. They didn't know which way he would lean.

It was too important for her to appear neutral.

It was impossible for her not to get emotionally involved. She spent nights crying herself to sleep. Nightmares hunting her. She felt helpless. Unable to fix anything. The turmoil of the past year was finally catching up with her. She was hospitalized for a few days – the emotional breakdown only an outside indicator for what was going down in her mind.

Duncan came to him one night. Trying to get him to talk, to no avail. He told him about everything that happened around. About school, his friends, this town. When Duncan started to tell him about Veronica a quick stab in his heart reminded him that he was still alive, but he chose to ignore it.

Time would heal all wounds, so they say. He was willing to give it a try.

Logan closed the book of Neptune and everybody in it. The chapters unfinished or not, could not be rectified. He was not willing to let anything from his past get in the way of his future.

A future he secretly dreaded.

Once the media calmed down, his live in New York began to establish itself as normal. School had never been his priority, so he saw no reason to enroll.

He lived his life, making new friends quickly and was steadily pulled into the glamour and glitz of all the other bored rich teens this city had to offer, slowly spiraling downwards. Loosing himself in a haze of partying, drinking and drugs.

It wasn't until about a year after the trial, that he got an amusing phone call. The publicity office, hired by his lawyer to protect his families privacy, called. Asking him for a meeting about a movie offer they had gotten for him.

Logan had laughed at them. Thinking it was nothing but another smear campaign to pull him out of hiding. To expose him. To ridicule him more.

They didn't go away. He tried to reason, he yelled, if he remembered correctly there was throwing of heavy items involved in the process, and finally he yielded. Decided that the only way to get rid of them, was to take the meeting with the production company.

They pitched their plan. He bitched them out.

Logan couldn't grasp why somebody was willing to cast an unknown man, with a name equal to poison in the public eye, in a major motion picture. Not to mention the fact, that he never had attended an acting class in his life.

They discussed, he auditioned, they offered, he refused. Blatantly obsessing about their motives.

That summer Duncan had moved to Boston, attending MIT. They had talked sporadically, but never about the past. They both new what was going on, on the surface of their lives, but any other topics were never touched. Logan told him about the movie unsure as to the motivation behind it. Duncan listened, not quite grasping what it was Logan wanted to hear.

Somehow, and not sure when, he came to the realization – who cares. it wasn't his money on the line. It was a welcome distraction from the boredom of the NY party nation. One way or another it would piss Aaron off.

The media attention had been insane. Everybody waiting to see if he would tank. He didn't. Apparently the genes succeeded.

By contract he made sure the name Echolls never appeared anywhere. Logan was born.  
First name status was in style anyways.

More movies followed and within 5 years he had turned into a box office hit. The new generation of teen fans didn't care about his past. The people that may still remembered, quickly forgot that the million dollar smile, the killer abs and the sparkling eyes came with a high price.

He emerged into the media frenzy, bathing in the attention and was able to live up to his bad boy image daily. The string of parties, drunken brawls and girlfriends was documented in every tabloid. The check out counters were full of his pictures. Exiting clubs drunk, kissing different girls, fighting with friends, fighting with the press, leaving his house, leaving the gym, having lunch, having dinner, never alone. He surrounded himself with beautiful women. It didn't matter. It was all fun, fun, fun …

Logan was resigning to his fate quickly. He couldn't make a move without it making the news. It had never been different.

So what if somebody made money off of him? The pictures were always taken in public so he had no handle on lawsuits, they never came close enough to crowd him – his reputation being his best bodyguard. He couldn't stop those damn paparazzi anyways.

Logan loved his live. He partied like there was no tomorrow. The movie offers came irregularly and he only picked what he liked. He worked when he felt like it and the rest of the time he was living the good live.

One day, about two years ago, after spending a few months in France, he decided to stay. So he stayed. Never thinking about it twice.

* * *

Logan looked around the table "Well, I hate to break it you all, but we need a change of scenery! I've been sitting on that same chair for half a day now and my ass is not going to look pretty once I get up!" he grinned, winking at a cute blonde model-wanting-to-turn-actress who had been making puppy dog eyes at him all afternoon.  
The whole group started to get up, chairs scooting, purses were grabbed. It was a noisy party, everybody telling everybody where to go next, what to do today, who to call…everybody had a relaxed smile on their face – the alcohol having done it's deed. 

Logan looked around, smiling to himself, just taking in the surreal scene of 20 people chit chatting and moving around like a chicken without a head, unable to concentrate on anybody but themselves long enough to even come up with a constructive plan.  
His eyes scanned the restaurant and the beach, the promenade slowly filling with people, ready to begin the night. He could feel the heaviness of alcohol on his body, he felt grounded and floating at the same time. Smiling silly around, enjoying the night. 'that's what friends are all about. Having a chance to hang, to enjoy the same things, have fun.' Logan mused.

As he kept on checking the surroundings, his eyes suddenly seeing a reflection across the street. 'Great! Damn Paparazzi!'

He angrily stared in the direction of the camera, sending all the bad Karma he was having that way.  
What was it with this people? Who gave a damn if he had lunch with a bunch of friends?

"What the FUCK!" He yelled across to him. People turning to find out what was going on.

"You want me to kick his ass?" Miguel asked "Because I can totally kick his ass" making some weird hand movement, which would only scare the waiter, who was trying to hold on to the filled glasses he was trying to serve.

"Miguel, the state you are in you would never even find his ass. Down boy! – It's not worth it."

"Okay, you guys ready?" somebody asked, getting a big cajoling "Yes, M'am" from everybody. "Well, Jimmy's it is then!"

"You want to drive all the way to Monaco? You're kidding me, right? " Logan sighed.

"Awwh, come on baby, you don't have to drive!" –"Yeah, and that's a good thing"

As they were leaving he tried again to focus on the black figure in the shadow. The camera still in hand, ready to get that money shot.

"Fuck you!" he yelled once more, looking right into the camera and flipping the photographer off.

"Gotcha! I am so glad you are still as predictable as always." Veronica mumbled as she left the shadow and headed for the car.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to Dina at LJ for beta'ing this. You are my story saver! Thank you sooo much**.

* * *

The group finally left the restaurant and piled in three limos, that had somehow magically appeared. They stood outside, drinks still in hand, laughing and joking while trying to decide who would share the rather long drive with whom. The night was just beginning, but Logan dreaded the hours of Limo partying, fearing this would probably turn into another one of those nights he would end up regretting.

He wondered when his self reflection and self loathing started, and more specifically: Why now?

Up until a few months ago he couldn't have cared less. Something was different and he wished it wasn't.

He couldn't pin down the moment he first started remembering, having dreams about what life used to be, back when he had friends that actually cared, when a party invitation or a school dance was actually something he was looking forward to. By no means was his youth perfect. Quite the opposite, but somehow it was all balanced out by the fact that he knew that a few people really cared about him, that when push came to shove they would have done anything for him. He just never asked.

Logan stared out the window, acknowledging the passing countryside without it really registering, the beauty of his surroundings wasted on a wandering heart and mind, the cars sliding quietly through the sunset.

Unaware of a figure in a big car following them.

"Oh my God! Stop!" A scream shook Logan out of his dreams as the Limo came around to a screeching halt. Everybody stared at the upcoming road, an ugly scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

One of the Limos looked twisted, smoke coming from the engine block, front bender smashed into the rail, glass and mangled metal strewn across the road. Some of the passengers began slowly piling out. Logan got out of the limo, standing frozen as he watched his friends trying to figure out what to do, panic starting to win over the initial shock.

Nobody realizing that another car stopped. The driver stepping out of the car, staying behind in the shadows, camera in hand.

On autopilot the photographer started to snap picture after picture, focusing her mind on the small frame visible through her lens, concentrating on the crash, on Logan and all her surroundings. Only minutes later she heard the faint screech of sirens coming up from behind.

Still observing Logan through her camera she suddenly saw his posture change, as he woke up from his stupor and panic spread over his face. Helplessness showing in his eyes.

With utter shock she watched his expression change as he ordered everybody back in the car. She saw the limo turn around on the narrow street and flee the accident scene.

Watching in disbelief as Logan once again did what he did best. He ran.

'This is too good to be true'

Logan was sitting paralysed in the Limo. Nobody said a word, just staring at him, scepticism etched on their faces, the events of the evening having sobered them up quickly.

Logan grabbed a bottle of Tequila, popped a pill, and closed his eyes as he tried to forget what just unravelled in front of him. The last thing he remembered was the pained expression Miguel had.

Then the night went black.

He slowly turns off the shower and grabs a towel, his headache fading as he regains composure. The shower refreshes his body, but also his memory of the past night.

'Shit!' What an earth was he thinking? He should have never left, he should have stuck it out and saw his friends through. He should have made sure they were ok. How could he run? How could he leave them without knowing if they were ok? Self doubt and shame ran through his body like poison.

With one quick motion he swiped the steam off the glass and leaned with both arms on the sink, intensely staring at his reflection. "What happened to you Logan? What have you done now?" he mumbled to himself. His eyes dark and haunted trying to trace the outline of his inner self.

Quietly he dries off and gets dressed. His eyes covered by sunglasses he left the room without a word, making sure the still lifeless girl would not stir and wake up before he was gone.

Back home Logan changes into fresh cloth and fixes himself a double espresso to get up to speed. He's happy that nobody is there for now, usually a rare occurrence. His home tends to be a constant meeting point for everybody and their neighbour, suiting Logan quite well, because being alone hasn't been an option in many years. Being alone means time to think, time to ponder and time to wonder where the hell he got off. He hates the emotions tied together with being alone – loneliness, fear and utter self pity.

"Hello!" Logan answers his ringing cell phone.

"What the Fuck Logan!" The screaming voice of Kristen, his publicist, rings in his ear.

"Well, good morning to you too sunshine!" he answers dryly. – "Sunshine my ass Logan! What the hell were you thinking? What the hell made you think you wouldn't have to tell me?" Her tirade continued.

"Would you mind tuning it down a notch, my head hurts and you sound like you're about to pop a vessel!" Logan breezes, ignoring her pained high pitch. "Maybe if you would breath in between your screaming match, you would be willing to fulfil your contractual obligation to inform you high-powered client about the reason of your, and may I add very unpleasant, wake up call." He snorts at her, unable to cover up his amusement. He loved to get Kristen rallied up, she was adorable when she was pissed. Which she usually was when it came to him.

"Well –"there's an ice cold silence on the other end of the line, and suddenly Logan realizes that this might not be one of his usual party extortions and he feels a chill crawling up his spine.

Kristen is used to his behaviour, often not even breaking a sweat to sort stories. Logan lived on his high class society lifestyle. Fans loved the fact that they could only dream about being him. He played right into their hopes and dreams of money, fame and stardom, none of them realizing that maybe it was not all fun and games.

Her uncomfortable silence makes him nervous.

Flashes of last night rush back. It's impossible. There is no way anybody could associate them with the accident. The unwritten rule is to never mention names. Everybody knows, but nobody would say anything. They're all in the same boat, and it would be insanely stupid to rock the boat you are sitting in.

"Kristen? What is it? You apparently have your panties in a bunch!" He tries to lighten the mood, the knot in his stomach growing.

"Did you check your email? Because, let's see…" She turns pages of a paper on her desk –"I already emailed you some cover stories, but I didn't feel like cluttering your inbox with all of them. I can offer 'The Sun' _Logan – he did it again_! Nice picture by the way. Or how about tomorrow's NE "_Logan – this time he didn't hit but he can still run_! What the fuck. Are you trying to kill me? Did you pose for these pictures? Because from here it doesn't quite look like you are trying to stay off camera! What the hell happened? What the hell were you thinking to let her take those photographs? For once Logan, I would have appreciated you beating the crap out of that photographer!" Her voice rises again.

Logan is speechless. How the hell could he miss a photographer? He should have known they couldn't be far. The guy from the restaurant must have followed them. A slight panic rises in him, and with it anger and hate slowly creeps up to his head.

"This can't be! There was nobody around!" he weakly tries to respond.

"Funny, then I guess the Photoshop montages are getting better, actually so good, that they could fool me! How am I supposed to keep your sorry ass out of the paper, if I don't even know where your sorry ass was last night? There is no way to fix this, it's everywhere, Logan. What the hell were you thinking? You left an accident scene? A car wreck with who knows how many people? I seriously thought your half ass-ed non-caring image was all an act, but hell, I guess not! Remind me to never take you along in a crisis!" She keeps yelling, unable to pull herself back to professionalism.

"You are supposed to show your face at Cannes in two weeks, promoting yourself as the emotional war hero in persona. You are nominated for crying out loud. This is the break you were looking for! Do you really think anybody will care about the movie? No one will give an award to a self-involved asshole, Logan. Nobody will remember even the name of the movie. You know what the studio is going to do to you! You can pray to your Gods that I got you on the phone first."

"I need to think. I'll call you later with a plan. But for now: Hide, damn it. If I see one more picture of you as much as drinking anything else but a latte macchiato, I will personally come over there and kill you. Do you hear me? Stay put, for once, and let me handle this." She finally cams down.

"Who's the guy?"

"I don't know yet. The credit lists 'Nancy Drew'.


	4. Chapter 4

_I know, can you imaging...7months! I obviously discarded the story, but then one night I stumbled across Logan at this party...and he mumbled something about me not being able to let the story end without him getting into V's pants._

_Thanks to **tinkabell007 **for the beta! hug_

* * *

_A few days later – New York_

„Good morning Ms Mars. I've got a few dozen messages for you. And about that camera repair - I can pick that up this afternoon..." the eager intern was trying to keep up with her boss, who had rushed into the office unexpected early just minutes ago.

Trying to stay close with the petite blond tornado wasn't as easy as it sounds. Every time Veronica actually made it into the office she tried to take care of all things at once, this time not being an exception as she was crisscrossing around a dozen desks, dropping off things and trying to talk to everybody who accidentally happened to be there.

"… the lab e-mailed the proofs from Tuesday night's drop off. I picked up your dry cleaning.." she was glad they finally made it to the desk without her dropping any of the folders and photographs she was balancing. "… and Mr Richards wants to see you right now." She finished, while she was handing her the stack of messages and positioned the proofs of Veronica's last assignments on her desk.

"Thanks, Karen." Quickly sifting through the messages while she was sliding her Army jacket off and placing it on the back of her chair.

"I was only gone for 7 days." Veronica groaned.

"Did everybody and their mother call me?"

She gave her intern an encouraging smile. "Now, if I could get you to pick up some decent Starbucks, I would be forever in your debt. Tibet – coffee not so much. But I can chant now. A girl needs to prioritise!"

Finally Veronica was able to sit down at her small makeshift desk, stretch her legs, and take a deep breath. Her whole body was still aching from the long trip and a couple of rough nights in accommodations a few stars below a Motel6.

_It's odd how adaptable people are to their surrounding. No matter what life deals you, somehow it's all just a point of perspective._

Relaxing into her chair, Veronica was leafing through the stack of messages more detailed. She enjoyed the quiet times in the office, knowing that all hell would break loose soon enough; Once the paper would officially open for another cycle. After doing freelance photography for a while after college, she had finally decided to settle down job wise last year, taking a fulltime position at the Paper. She was still able to take a few freelancing opportunities if time permitted, but generally she was now based in Manhattan and was fond of it. She lived comfortably and still travelled frequently. Overall life was good.

"Marc, the Lab, National Geographic, Daddy…" reading the headers of all the messages "Marc, Daddy, John Wakefield – Law office " a question mark in her face. "Logan Echolls, Marc, John Wakefield, Marc…" she suddenly sat up straight and went back the last messages.

'Logan Echolls? As in Logan.freaking.Echolls?' Expressing complete confusion. _That could be awkward._

"Veronica! Are you going to answer that?", realizing her ringing phone, she sat up straight and collected her thoughts. Her jetlagged mind having trouble to keep up.

"News Room, Veronica Mars speaking"

"This is Tonya with Kane Software, I have Mr Kane on the line for you. Please hold."

"Duncan!" Veronica smiles.

"This can't be good! It's like 4 am over there! What are you doing up? And more so, what are you doing at your office at this unholy time of day? Are you okay? " unable to cover the concern in her voice.

Since high school they had only seen each other a few times a year and didn't talk much more. They were never able to repair their past completely, but over time they had managed to re-establish a loose friendship.

"Hey Veronica, what can I say. Things keep coming up. Somehow nobody wants me to sleep nowadays!" he snorted while shooting his company a dirty look.

"How about you? How is life treating you in the big city? Gotten into trouble lately?" referring to her high school years, or at least she was hoping he was.

"I am just peachy. Relaxed and in total harmony with my mind, body and soul. Rejuvenated after 4 days in Tibet on a photography assignment.

"Oh, so you are Buddhist now? I sure hope I am going to see that picture of you bald, wrapped in an orange table cloths" came a snicker from the other side of the country.

"Funny. Extremely so. So what's up? How is your lovely wife? You are still married, right?" she responded absentminded.

"This is California, I would have to be separated for a year before I get divorced and considering that you know I got married 6 months ago, although you decided to send a huge ante table from somewhere remote, rather than to attend, that would be a statistical impossibility."

"Gee, Duncan, a simple yes would have more than satisfied me," she breathed into the receiver, receiving a chuckle from the other end of the country.

"Listen, why I am calling. Are you going to be in France anytime soon?"

"No. Why? I was just there last week. We have people down there, and I doubt fashion photography is my expertise," She answered smiling.

"Is there any particular reason you are asking me?

"No, just …" Duncan sighs

Oh, I know…you need me to spy on somebody? Is your wife attending one too many fashion shows this spring? "

"Be serious. She can attend any show she wants to. It would be the actual wearing of those haute couture pieces of nothings, that would concern me." He threw in, unable to really interrupt Veronica's train of thought.

"Goodie, just like the good old times!" Unable to stop laughing.

"Sorry. My mind is not up to speed yet. It's been a busy couple of weeks," She replied dryly trying to suppress the snicker.

Relieved she was taking the cup of steaming java from her interns hand, who had suddenly reappeared, and was now pointing to Mr Richards office, reminding her that she had been expected there minutes ago. Veronica nodded and mouthed a 'two minutes' at her, while watching her calling their editors office.

"Duncan. Was there anything else I can help you with? My boss has apparently missed me, I really have to go."

"So you were in France, hmm? When was that?"

"Last weekend, I stopped over in Paris. Céline had an art show, and I used a stopover to go see her for a few? Why?" she responded evasively.

There was a awkward break on the other end "No, nothing. Don't worry. It' wasn't important. I got work as well. Are you coming home anytime soon? We should get together for dinner."

"Sure thing. I'll call you if I know anything. Have a great day, and say hi to your wife."

"Bye Veronica. Be good."

"Always. Bye Duncan" and she hang up the phone.

Duncan never called for nothing. Ever since he had been assigned VP of his father's software empire, he was more business than before, if that was possible.

First Logan and then Duncan.

"This cannot be good," she groaned, making her way to see her manager.

x

"Well? So what is her excuse?" Logan bellowed as soon as Duncan hangs up.

"Come on Logan, you don't know it was her!" trying to calm him down.

"Was she there last week?" Logan was getting more frustrated by the minute, pacing around Duncan's office.

"I don't know. She was in France, she admitted that much. But come on. Why the hell would she do that?"

"Money talks, man. Did you still not get it? She must have made quite a fortune with those pictures. I mean, hey, she sold them to pretty much every agency I can think of!" getting louder with every word.

"Okay, you need to calm down! Go home, get some sleep. So will I, because I sure as hell am not used to being up at that time of night." He sighed

"You will not solve anything right now. And again, maybe you should try to talk to her before you accuse her?"

Logan just glared at him; Trying really hard not to punch his friend.

"Talk, right, because that is going to help me how? That bitch! And here I thought I was finally rid of her! But no, just when you feel safe, there Veronica Mars comes around the corner, and just – bam!" punching his right hand with his other fist "there she is, all perky and cute with her head tilt thing and screws you over!"

"Logan!" Duncan sighed, unable to cover his annoyance "Go sleep, go party, go screw someone – but just GO! Your issues are seriously cutting into my sleeping pattern and as much as I would like to help you; I am rather not listening to you bashing Veronica. Because honestly, you are deluded. There is no way in hell she took those pictures and sold them. In case you forgot; I was there when the tabloids chased her through Neptune, I was with her when she was unable to even get out of her house to go to school, I was there when her father had to hire bodyguards to protect her from your father's fans. So even if she still holds a grudge, which I doubt, she would never ever do that to you. Especially, since apparently everybody but you used the last years to grow up and mature. A concept you seem to be unaware of."

"Fuck you, Duncan!"

"Nice. Very mature. You trying to prove a point here?"

"Come on. Nancy Drew? Who else would be so stupid to use that as cover."

"Right, because if nothing, stupid is the one adjective we always associated with Veronica," Duncan replied sarcastically.

"So what are you saying?" slowly running out of steam.

"I am saying it was not Veronica. I am saying _somebody_ is trying to screw you over and blame it on her. What did the lawyer's say?"

"They don't have anything yet. Nobody could get a hold of her. She's been avoiding the phone and has not returned any of the messages they left. Which by the way, I think is evidence that my theory is much better. _She_ wants to screw me over."

"She was on assignment in Tibet and just got back. So why don't you wait and see. I am sure she'll return your call." Grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

"Let's go, this reunion is officially over. I am going home and you go wherever. I have to be back in four hours and I need my beauty sleep. Especially since I already been kidnapped tonight, which we will never repeat, right?" pulling his former buddy with him.


End file.
